


a peach by any other name is just as sweet

by emperorwrit, phalanges mccoy (emperorwrit)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, Fairytale Universe, M/M, Set in 1800s, featuring joanna as chip, i hope it's adorable, i may come back and edit this who knows, i really don't like jocelyn, i'm a turtle with updates, i'm taking an emr class, it's mainly a crack au but, khan has the hots for jim because why not, khan is gaston, many peach jokes, minor jocelyn and leonard, they rhyme that's the only reason he's the bad guy, this will be slow coming, uhura as the badass enchantress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emperorwrit/pseuds/emperorwrit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emperorwrit/pseuds/phalanges%20mccoy
Summary: who could ever love a beast?a man who looks to the stars.





	1. Prologue

GEORGIA, 1878. WINTER.

       Torches lit the walkway. It was built of dark cobblestone and neat, like it had just been swept by overly cautious waitstaff. Inside the cream colored mansion was a bountiful party, a gathering worthy of the gods, and the glow the vast volume of candles and lanterns made the stars dim in comparison. Night had been fallen for quite some time, and the bitter cold had bitten all who had dared to enter it. Hence, most party goers stayed inside the enormous plantation house, where it was warm.

       The large door was like an opening to another world, one where music and beauty was the norm. Many who attended the gathering did not fit in--- but the kind doctor didn’t mind. He simply strode from room to room, offering bright and blinding smiles to each guest. Taken aback by his kindness, each one struggled to give one in return.

       Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy was an ample host, if not gruff around the edges. He greeted each party goer, and he even drew people into polite conversation. He was a gentleman, bred of the South--- it showed in the curve of his smile, in how he remained warm despite the frigid air of outside. It was a bad winter. It was the worst one that Atlanta has seen since Sherman burned their world down. In fact, it was nothing short of a blizzard:

       Snow piled the whole city. No one could escape it.

       And Dr. McCoy had figured to throw a party, or that was what everyone was led to believe. Jocelyn had orchestrated the whole thing.

       ----  
  
A woman struggled mightily against the storm. She stomped the white fluff, biting back pain. Her bare feet made walking in the cold that much harder. But, of course. She needed shelter. The journey was worth it, wasn’t it? Her eyes moved from the ground to focus on a bright light in the distance.

The mansion was a beacon. Dr. McCoy's.

And the Enchantress found that beacons proved to be illuminating.

A spell could warm her, but a test of character... was better.

       ----

       “Oh, _Leonard_ ,” murmured his wife, Jocelyn, her luscious skirts swishing at her feet as she swayed. Beautiful Baroque rhythms trickled in from the main hall. Some fiddles also fought for the soundspace. She batted her long eyelashes at him, and he was _captive_. His heart ( and brain ) shut off.

       “ _Jocelyn_.” The urge to kiss her mouth was squished by the need to be proper. So, he didn’t. Hikaru Sulu and a few of the other waitstaff looked on from the bannister with the slightest bit of distaste in their mouthes. _She’s not good for you, sir._ That was what he had told him, so long ago, when the two had been courting. Everyone knew how horrible she had been to the doctor--- it was as plain as anything, her ill motives. She didn’t even take care of their daughter, Joanna, either. Jocelyn left it up to her nurse, Christine. While Leonard worked in his private practice, she spent a good deal of his money on  unspeakable things. The worst part? McCoy didn’t even know.

       “We have a guest.” Her eyes rolled along his features as if to say that she was displeased with the very notion, but that she didn't dare say a thing.

       McCoy’s brows rose to the heavens, and in a grandiose gesture, he murmured, “We have many guests, Joce. That’s why I held a party. To have guests.”

       Her mouth contorted in the way that meant she was angry beyond measure. Before she could speak a word, a woman in rags approached the door. It burst open in a wide arc, and Leonard took a step back. The music from the main hall seemed to stop entirely.

       “Don’t let her in,” came Jocelyn’s voice, husky, and as if using her presence as a spell, she took a step towards the doctor, “she’s in rags. She’ll dirty the floor.”

       Leonard was tortured as he watched the woman come to a standstill in front of him. His hands balled into fists as his sides, but he felt… powerless. Jocelyn was the one he listened to, no matter what.

       “This mansion is beautiful,” she said, pulling back her purple and dingy hood, looking at him with gorgeously muted eyes, “if I give you this peach in turn, may I spend the night?”

       As the exchange continued, people began to trickle in from the main hall. If Jocelyn had been out of the city, Leonard would have said yes. But she was there, and it was so clear that she was so annoyed with the amount of guests. One more would be... too much.

       Uhura looked at him knowingly as Leonard was silent, and she simply pulled out the peach from her pouch. Her eyes spoke volumes: she knew that Jocelyn was manipulating him. But it was his choice.

       After a beat, and Leonard looking towards his wife, he shook his head. Nyota’s mouth fell into a thin line. She repeated the question, but McCoy again shook his head. The air in the room changed from warm to electric. A purple aura surrounded the beggar woman, and as if the world paused, the peach was thrust into the air. Leonard’s stern face grew to be fearful.

       “I thought you were a good man, Dr. McCoy. I was wrong. You mustn't let others make your choices for you.”

       The peach glowed as it hovered, and then McCoy was screeching like he’d been hit. He fell to the ground, screaming, while Jocelyn watched him with a grin. Everyone was unnerved by this, and people started to filter out of the party. All except the servants, that is. The more Leonard writhed, the more Jocelyn enjoyed.

       Uhura’s gaze locked in on her. One solemn finger pointed at the woman, and then… suddenly, she was having a hard time breathing. Jocelyn’s mouth froze in a scream as stone snaked up her arms, as it twisted and settled into her skin. By the time Leonard had stopped screaming, she was dead and a statue.

       “Stone holds no life, and you have ruined this man. It will take him time to trust it, again… for what? Fun? Disgusting. You belong with ash. And all of you deserve a different fate for letting him lose sight of the goodness of his heart.”

       Nurse Chapel and Joanna came down the stairs, two bright faces amidst the saddening events. They hadn't even known what was going on. As soon as Chapel saw the Enchantress, she was stilling and shoving Joanna behind her. “Go back to your room,” cried the woman, shielding the child from the sight, but the curse of the peach ripped through everyone. It seemed that Leonard wasn’t the only one to be affected. Christine watched in horror as Joanna began to shrink into a little tiny tea cup, and that she soon followed suit. McCoy caught her with his eyes--- he gave a howl before stilling. His fault. He should have been kind. He shouldn't have listened to that wretched woman.

       “Oh, sweet doctor… find a good soul to love. If they love you, in turn, the spell will be broken, and everything will return to how it should have been.”

      With a swish of beautiful robes, Uhura was gone, leaving Leonard to an empty mansion, his beastly appearance, and his closest friends as household objects.

       ----

Once upon a time, in a faraway land,

A young Gent lived on a robust plantation.

Although he had most of what his heart desired,

The Gent was grumpy, stern, and naive.

But then, one winter's night,

An old beggar woman came to the mansion

And offered him a single peach

In return for shelter from the bitter cold.

Entranced by a foul wife,

The Gent scoffed at the gift,

And turned the old woman away.

But she warned him not to listen to his wife,

For Beauty is found within.

And when he dismissed her again,

The old woman's ugliness melted away

To reveal a beautiful Enchantress.

The Gent tried to apologize, but it was too late,

For she had seen that there was no strength in his heart.

And as punishment,

She transformed him into a hideous beast,

And placed a powerful spell on the plantation,

And all who lived there.

Ashamed of his monstrous form,

The beast resigned himself to his condition inside his cream mansion,

With a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world.

The Peach she had offered,

Was truly an enchanted peach,

Which would keep ripe for many years.

If he could learn to love a kind heart,

And earn their love in return

By the time it decayed,

Then the spell would be broken.

If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast

For all time.

As the years passed,

He fell into despair, and lost all hope,

For who could ever learn to love...

A Beast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya, guys. i'm trying to make this the first fic i flesh out all the way. this was not beta-read by anyone, so excuse the mistakes. i wanted to go ahead and post this before i lost the gumption to. this is my first time writing mckirk fanfic.
> 
> if ya like it, let me know. i'll try to at least get this done by christmas. lord knows i'm molasses when it comes to writing.


	2. Jim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter the beau of our fair tale.

GEORGIA, 1882. SUMMER.

       “Watch out!”

       Rickety-rack, rickety-rack, _CRASH_!

       The most monumental device of the century whizzed by unsuspecting villagers, among a few broken crates and crumpled cans of tin. James Tiberius Kirk, the greatest inventor of the age, was strapped into the front seat of his latest invention, the mooner. It had been a half-crocked idea, but Jim had fallen in love with it. Sewn to the top and bottom of the delightful half-carriage were three big fins--- as if Jim could touch the sky with them. 

       That had been his intent, anyway.

       But, like most aspects of his life, what Jim had intended hadn’t occurred. Instead of flying, Kirk had succeeded in zipping all around the small town that had become his home, laying mild devastation in his wake.

       “Get out of the way, please!”

       A few shopkeepers stepped outside their shops, waving angry rags at him, but Jim couldn’t slow down. He hadn’t installed a brake! He should have installed a break! He turned his invention down a path, and was greeted with a hand painted sigh, _Freedom Way_. Oh, no. He knew where he was going. At least he wasn’t too far from home. It was a practical dead end, with a wooden fence and spikes, and with a pond being the only salvation from a deadly crash. The grass and dirt would have been a little bit of a buffer, but it wouldn’t have been enough.

       This day couldn’t get any worse. Or, well, that was what Jim had thought--- until he saw his mother at the end of the road.

       Winona Kirk stood tall, stance wide, hand outstretched. She was a mass of blonde hair and gleaming green orbs, and more importantly, she was standing right in the path of Jim’s mooner.

       “Mom!” Jim cried, waving his arm vigorously, desperate to get her to evacuate the path, “Please move.”

       Like everyone of the Kirk line, however, she was stubborn.

       “No.”

       The inventor gave a long sigh, and then he was angling the mooner towards the small pond--- that would be enough, wouldn’t it? He hoped so.

       When he hit the water, Jim gave one of his loudest hollers, bracing himself for impact. It hadn’t been as rough as he had imagined, but… it did lead to the sinking of his prototype. He grumbled as he swam from the wreckage, as he got right up to the bank, and then that died on his tongue, because his mother looked ready to kill him.

       “What have I told you about your inventions?” she asked, angrily snatching his ear in her dainty grip, “Tell me, James.”

       Jim shut his eyes at the pain, bit his lip, and tried to put on an innocent face before answering. “Don’t make anything that’ll cause the whole town to be rude,” he murmured, “and don’t create anything dangerous. I’ve… broken both rules, haven’t I?”

       Winona let go of his ear long enough for him to stand up straight before she was yanking him by the shirt into a hug. “You’re ridiculous. I can’t even believe you would worry your mother like that. How dare you? James, your father---”

       He stilled, not even struggling against the embrace like he normally would. Jim hadn’t known much about his father, George, but he did know that he died saving someone’s life. And it had been a great death, because the Navy had honored him. Winona hadn’t been one to divulge information on his passing, seeing that it pained her so heavily, but James heard things around the town.

       “I’m sorry, mom,” he whispered, burying his face into her shoulder and shoving all ideas about the mooner into the deepest depths of his soul. Another day, perhaps, he would try and venture towards the stars, but today… wasn’t that chance.

       Winona gave a big smile, pulled away from her son, and gave his cheek a pat, “You’re forgiven. Now, let me call Christopher. Perhaps he’ll have a group of men to clean this up. Hurry home, because Khan is looking for you again. I’m betting he will try to steal your designs--- or ask you for your hand. Which is just strange. You haven’t shown any interest in him.”

       Jim’s eyes rolled so far back into his head that he could see the inner workings of his brain. “Him and Alexander, they’re always in kahoots. Of course, mom, I’ll hurry.”

       True to her word, Winona left him to go on her way to stop in with the town sheriff, Christopher Pike. He watched her go with a smile on his features, and then he was racing to get to the cottage before Khan caught him. Dirt stirred up as he ran, and his coat was dangling behind him… but, alas. He was out of luck.

       “Kirk,” came the low voice, snapping him out of his thoughts. Jim had been right at the door, poised to go in, when Khan stepped out from a hedge in an extremely creepy fashion. He trailed up the steps like some eerie Nosferatu clone.

       “Khan.” The inventor took one look at him before he tried to open the door. It was to no avail, however, seeing a single boot prevented the action.

       “Where are you going? You were quite the talk of the town with your invention today.”

       Jim gave one of his dismissive smiles, one that hinged on passive-aggressive. He didn't need this conversation, not after wrecking a prototype. Shutting it down seemed to be the best option. “I was just going to the moon, didn’t you know?” He kicked slightly at Khan’s boot, causing the man to give a sneer. He looked less amicable.

       “Go there, then. Do us a favor and leave.” The boot was gone, and then Kirk was bounding inside, yelling an angry, “I WILL!” before he shut the door.

       ---

       Supper was a good one that night: potato and pork and these exquisite sweet rolls that Winona had procured from the baker. As she sat across from him at their little table, she delivered news that made him get emotional.

       “I will be going to Nashville to speak with a friend of your father’s. A statue of him will be placed in one of the parks up there. He’ll be honored, honey, and I have to go.”

       Jim gave a slight grumble, picking at his food with his fork. “Do you really have to go? Couldn’t it wait until I finished some more designs?”

       She shook her head, offering a solemn smile, “No, dear. But I’ll bring a gift. How does that sound?”

       Blond brows shot up. That sounded good, indeed. “Okay. I can handle that. But that’ll take you at least 8 days of travel to reach Nashville, and 8 to get back. It’ll be about a fortnight until I see you again.”

       Winona smiled across the table, “That’s not too long. I’ve been away from you for more time. I will, however, send Cupcake when I reach the Tennessee border. How does that sound?”

       “You’re sending _Cupcake_ to comfort me?” he said, incredulous, but the offer was appreciated, “alright, then, mom. What day will that be by then?”

       “The fifth day. I will even take Prise with me, so that you will know when I will be on my way home.”

       He waved his hand dismissively, “You don’t have to do that. I know you’ll be fine. And for the record, could you get me a peach? I know there’s plenty of them around here, but I want a really ripe one. They always taste better when you get them.”

       “Deal,” she murmured, beaming, “and of course they do. I know how to pick them. Like I picked your father.”

       Jim bit into the rest of his dinner, telling jokes to his mother and having a good time. Before she left, he showed her the design for his latest prototype, a small device that could play some music. She was delighted, and with that delight, she headed towards Nashville.

       But she would not reach the city, for fate had different plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya, guys. unbeta-ed, as usual. i had fun with this one, but i'm trying to play with descriptions. so, whoo. i hope you all liked this one. :D
> 
> have a nice day, i don't know when i'll get to the next part.


	3. The Plantation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some winona kirk for everyone.

       Winona Kirk was a woman of integrity, of kicking down anything that dared to step in her way, and it showed in how she held the reins: in a tight grip that left her knuckles white. Cupcake, her palomino, didn’t seem to mind. He was just fine trotting along the path in his excited way. Swish-swish, said his tail.

       The air was cool, and the scent of fresh rain wafted across her nostrils. Night always was like a beacon to her. It was times like these, when she was alone with only the expanse of Georgia, that she allowed herself to think about George. She hadn’t ever been fully truthful with Jim. Then again, she hadn’t been truthful about why she had to head to Nashville, either.

       Sometimes, lying to Jim was better than telling him the truth. She couldn’t bear to look into those blue puppy dog eyes and crush him. “We may be getting a settlement,” was what she had wanted to tell him, but how could she admit that to him? That the government hadn’t yet paid for what occurred to them? The father Jim never got to know?

       In truth, she was heading to Nashville to meet with Dr. Phillip Boyce, a man who, presumably, could hurry along the precedings.

         Cupcake whined as he stalked forward; it was then that she had been shaken out of her thoughts. A cold object touched her wrist. Almost immediately, she pulled the horse to a stop. _Snow_. In the summer. Winona looked towards the sky, puzzled. Her hand shot out, and she caught a few snowflakes in her palm. They melted as quickly as they came. She brushed her hand onto her dress as an afterthought.

       She beheld the most exquisite sight she’d ever seen: a cream colored mansion hidden behind monumental dark green hedges and a gate. She craned her neck to really see.

       Roses and all sorts of beautiful flowers cascaded around each hedge. The building, itself, was huge, and by the fields that seemed to trail behind it, it was clear it had once been worked. But not for some time. Despite the intense beauty, it looked… _desolate_. And sad. Some columns were crumbling, and some of the grass was dead. Even a few of the flowers were, too.

       Winona made to move on with the reins, but then Cupcake was whining and stomping his foot. “Let’s stop here,” he said with his eyes and a flick of the tail. She sighed, but it was clear the horse was going to get what he wanted.

       “It’s nearly night time, anyway. Let’s see if we can’t speak to the owner and have a place to stay for the night.”

       Cupcake gave one of his happy little whinnies. She led him to the overarching gate, where it opened easily. Winona hadn’t even touched it. She looked at it, a bit spooked, and then they were heading down the cobblestone path. In its glory days, the damn thing would have been a bustling hub of Southern parties and farming, and she knew it. Anyone with eyes could have seen its former glory.

       ------

       “We have a visitor,” said the candle stick, twisting around to look at his friend, the clock, “and it’s a woman!” They were on one of the upper floors of the mansion, peering down through a window.

       “Sulu, that woman looks old.”

       Hikaru’s flame lowered drastically in comparison to how his flame usually held. It bobbed in such a way that it looked like he was laughing.

       “And to think, Spock, that you were a commander on a Navy vessel.”

       “I was. Perhaps I am uncertain as to how that was supposed to be insulting.”

       Sulu’s long and golden arm wrapped around his friend, “Perhaps I’m uncertain I should tell you.”

       The clock gave a stubborn chime. It was then that little Joanna was hopping around the corner with Miss Chapel following suit.

       “Tag, you’re it!” Joanna yelled, her little porcelain base scraping against the freshly cleaned floors. Spock looked about ready to have an aneurysm with his little clock face. All Sulu could do was simply laugh. As if she were thinking intensely, she came to a stop.

       The baby blue cup tilted up to stare at the pair--- “Mr. Sulu! Mr. Spock! What are you doing up there?”

       “Oh, Jo, we are just watching a woman come close to the mansion,” offered Sulu, waving his hand so she might join him. Joanna took it and bounded up in one gigantic leap.

       Chapel seemed exasperated by this, but soon, she was up there, too. A candlestick, a clock, one tiny tea cup, and one tea pot all sat by the window.

       “Who do you think she is?” she asked.

       “Someone special,” said Sulu.

       ----

       Winona was sure the place had some sort of spell on it. There was a sort of edge to it that didn’t hang over others, but it was here. She was sure of it. And so, she made sure to put it into her brain that she wasn’t staying for too long.

       Just long enough for a rest and maybe a meal.

       She tied off Cupcake to the railing. Perhaps there was a stable.

       However, Cupcake got spooked and was dashing into the other direction, back home, before she could even catch his reins. Looks like she needed to work on her knots. Winona gave one of her annoyed sighs and delved deeper. Now, she really needed help.

       ----

       The whole mansion was ablaze with excitement. It had been 4 long years since anyone had entered, and everyone was looking forward to the contact. One could only handle enough of each other before they went crazy.

       ----

       As she pushed open the door, Winona was once again taken aback by the sheer beauty. The carpet was a gorgeous shade of red: one that bordered maroon. There was a huge staircase, with gorgeous paintings along all facets of the wall. A silver tray and various tables and mirrors. Those were simply a few things of the dim elegance that peppered the entire place. Still, it was eerie in the way that it felt like she was being watched with each step.

       And the statue of the woman. . . that creeped her out more than anything.

       Fighting against better judgement, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

       When she was met with silence, Winona stepped towards the stairs. She repeated it a few times. . . but on the fifth try, she heard boots on wood. So, someone was upstairs.

       “I’m Winona,” she offered, “and my horse ran away. I am looking for shelter for the night.”

       The sound of boots got louder, to where she was certain the owner of said boots was descending down the stairs.

       “Winona,” came a gruff voice, “you’re not welcome here. Leave.”

       A blonde brow rose, “Uh, alright. Might I ask why?”

       At the question, he came into the light ( which there wasn’t that much of. ) The figure at the middle stair was massive: he was hairy and strange-looking, and it almost incited fear within her. But she didn’t give into fear easily.

       “Because,” he said, as if that was all he was going to say.

       “You’d throw someone out into the cold?” she asked, as fiery as ever.

       “I’ve done it before.”

       Winona gave a snort, “You’re a real piece of work.”

       “With a face like mine, you have to be, darlin’.”

       She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

       The Beast, however, wasn’t having an uninvited guest in his house.

       “Actually, I do have a place for you to stay.”

       Winona’s brow arched suspiciously. “You do?”

       “ _Of course_.”

       ----

       “I can not believe that Dr. McCoy has resolved himself to his condition. He truly has lost all hope of changing back,” said Sulu, staring at the cell with discontempt. Inside, Winona was sobbing, for she missed her son dearly.

       “I can. The man Leonard was becoming with Jocelyn showed me that, Hikaru. And it is unlikely someone will come along.”

       Spock batted one of Sulu’s flames with his hands. Hikaru shrugged away.

       “Locking her up was a poor choice. Lord knows someone will come looking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had so much fun with this chapter! unbeta-ed.
> 
> i may be editing some of the other chapters for more descriptive stuffs, or to keep tone. see you all when i update again.


	4. The Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an inventor goes looking . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, sorry for the lack of updates, people, but here we go. Unbeta-ed. I hope ya'll like this one. It's especially long. :D
> 
> I hope everyone had a good Halloween & Days of the Dead.

Jim Tiberius Kirk didn't like finding Cupcake in the stable, especially with the apparent lack of his mother's presence. Blue eyes looked on somberly at the creature, and though he brushed hair out of the horse's face, worry was coursing through him. No affection could stave off the notion that something was _wrong_.

       Cupcake whined, eyes flickering from the thrown open doors to the aspiring inventor. 'Let's go find your mother,' he said, and then Jim was shutting his eyes and placing his forehead to the horse's. He’d always had an uncanny knack for understanding the horse.

       "Deal. We'll go find her. But you'll have to lead me. I was supposed to try and market my invention to one of the big wigs at the bank today. I'm kinda glad I got out of it."

       Cupcake huffed, gave a stomp of his foot, and flicked his tail from side to side. He was excited to get a move on.

       "You wait here."

       Kirk was quick as he packed the saddle, moving to get some feed for Cupcake and grabbing apples for himself. He decided not to pack clothes, but to pack an extra blanket. He intended to find his mother, and fast.

       He stomped over to the well to fill up his canteen. Leaning over the side, he allowed himself a single moment to think to himself. She'd went to go get his father's memory sealed in stone. His mother was such a blessing, such an incredible woman. And that was why he had to go rescue her. It was what his father would have done.

       Jim stepped away from the well and beamed, heading back to the stables. Right when he thought he was ready to go ( after packing up an excited Cupcake ), he spied that faded Stetson that hung on the hook. It was dark brown with a leather cord around the middle, and the initials of his father were etched into the bottom part of the brim.

       He mounted the horse, set his eyes on the hat, and squeezed his legs. When prompted, Cupcake moved forward... Only to stop with a gentle tug of the reins.

       Jim snatched the hat off the hook, gave a hell of a grin, and then started on his way. The sun was high in the sky as he left, as if signaling the inventor in the right direction.

\---

       The mansion was so damn big that he nearly had an aneurysm looking at it. Cupcake had led him to the outskirts of town, down to one of the more luscious forests. It was like a forgotten memory clouded in fog, like something unreachable.

       Jim hopped down from the saddle in his typical swagger and crossed his arms. He needed to stretch his legs, anyway.

       "Lead the way, Cake."

       Cupcake shook his head from side to side and stomped, throwing his face up in the direction of the mansion.

       "That way?" said the inventor, incredulous, laughing with a smile, only to pause when the animal gave no inclination of humor. Then again, animals didn’t often give the same inclinations as humans did.

       "With the snow? And the general creepiness?"

       Again, silence.

       Suddenly, Jim wasn't smiling anymore. He squared his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and left Cupcake to graze for a small millennium.

       It didn't look imposing, but the building sure as hell looked like it was a maze of fantastic Georgian architecture. He could have liked it without the constant impending snowstorm, or the general feeling of uneasiness.

       Jim stepped up to the door, gave a few loud knocks on the beautiful dark wood, and stood there. When he heard nothing, the inventor went _looking_.

\---

       Joanna weaseled her way into the cell. Winona was huddled in the corner with a thin blanket covering her, and she wasn’t phased by the little cup’s presence.

       “I’m sorry about my Papa,” she said, hopping, scraping against the floor.

       “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault.” Winona stopped crying for a single second to pick up the tea cup. Joanna settled in her grip, offering a giggle when Winona’s nail scratched along the bottom of her porcelain.

       “That tickled!”

       “Apologies, dear,” whispered Winona.

       “Why are you so sad?”

       Before Winona could answer, a loud growl tore through the entirety of the dungeon. “JOANNA!” Leonard’s voice was like a fierce thunderstorm, and everyone was trapped within it. The small tea cup sighed. She hopped down from Winona’s grasp and headed down the hall.

       "Coming, Papa!"

\---

       Jim hadn’t seen such a beautiful place in a very long time. It was striking and dark, like a memory… or a dream he had about a chariot that went into space. Towering columns and beautiful paintings... He couldn’t quite place how familiar the place felt, but he could place that it hadn’t been disturbed for a couple of years. That is, until he spotted some large footprints in dust, and smaller ones.

       Could that be his mother’s? And was that even _human_?

       Investigative as ever, Kirk followed the trail.

       But not before he came to a stop in front of a painting. It was ripped to absolute shreds, except for a pair of striking hazel eyes and pink lips in the center. The background of the canvas was a gorgeous burgundy. Jim knew, however, that the beauty of the man was one that would transcend all art forms. And the girl he clutched by him--- she was untouched by…. _Claw marks_?

       The puzzled man continued on.

\---

       There was someone in his castle, and he knew it. Leonard went down on all fours to find the perpetrator.

\---

       Jim had reached the second flight of stairs when he felt the chill rip through his spine. All of the air in his lungs was sucked out and replaced with a gasping breath--- and then he was hoisted up by his shirt. The being ( no, creature ) that faced him was as ugly as ever. Its eyes were a piercing hazel, and though beautiful, there was a sharpness to them that startled Kirk. He swatted at the grip, but all it did was leave him hanging there.

       “What are you doing in my house?” asked the creature. It had a drawl. A really nice Southern drawl.

       “Okay, first of all--- don’t take this the wrong way, but… _what_ are you?”

       The Beast scoffed, pulling Jim closer. The creature’s breath in his face wasn’t too unpleasant, but he was pretty damn scared.

       “None of your damn business.”

       Kirk’s hands went up. “Okay, okay, jeez. I’ll answer, then. My mother went missing, and she’s all I have left, so I want to make sure she’s okay.”

       Beast seemed to ponder this notion, and yet, in reality, Len was trying to fight off the sudden attraction to the other. Blue eyes... that face. An intelligence hung behind them that was incomprehensible. There was a mini silence, but it ended as soon as Jim was thrown onto the creature’s back. The inventor gave a surprised cry but held onto two big tufts of fur.

       “Gentle,” growled Leonard.

       “You’re the one who put me on your back. Without even asking me!”

       Len didn’t even say a word. All he did was trudge up two more flights of stairs, took a left, and then found himself in the dungeon. It hadn’t been a part of the house originally. It was a room that the magic had supplied. When they stepped into the room, Winona’s eyes lit up… and then they dimmed.

       “Don’t hurt him,” she begged, “please. He’s all I have left. He’s my son, and I love him so very much.”

       “I won’t hurt him,” murmured McCoy, “but I have a question for the both of you.”

       Beast placed Jim onto the cold floor and then crossed his arms.

       “Do you want to leave?” he asked Winona, and when she murmured a quick, “yes!” a dangerous grin danced upon his lips.

       “I’ll let you go if you trade places. How’s that sound?”

       Winona hopped up, angry and red, shaking her fist at him through the bars. “I will not damn my son for my sake!”

       Beast took a single look at Jim. Like some unknown force feeding him information, he knew that the inventor would stay with him. Now, it was just about hearing the words. It was an ultimatum, and Jim would make the right choice.

       “I kinda like this place,” Jim murmured, “I mean, I haven’t been here long, but I don’t think I’d mind it that much. Would I see the inside of a cell the whole time?”

       “Not unless you wanted to.”

       Kirk pondered this. Like he really liked spending time trying to impress careless investors. Like the town even wanted him.

       “Honey, please, no.”

       “I’m sorry, mother, but I’m staying. It’s what my father would have done.”

       At the admission, Beast was clattering open the dungeon door and dragging her out of there. He didn’t carry her in a similar fashion, no. For she was struggling too much. Winona was screeching, sobbing, and laughing hysterically by the time she got to the first staircase. He dragged her all the way to the main door to the plantation. Leonard shut the door behind her as soon as she could stand, and the mother cried more than she thought possible when the door wouldn’t budge.

       “You know,” Jim murmured as soon as he saw the creature again, “you could have been more gentle with her. She is _aged_.”

       The Beast dismissed his words entirely, “Supper is at six every night. Dinner is at noon. Breakfast is at 8. I expect to see you each time. If you don’t show up for a meal, I won’t wait, and I won’t have them set out food for you. Do you understand me?”

       “Yes. I do.” It was a grumble.

       “Good. I’ll have Spock and Sulu show you to your room.”

       “Aye, aye, _creature_.”

       “Call me McCoy.”

       “Call me Jim.”

       “That's not proper---fine, _whatever_.”

       The Beast left in a whirlwind of a cape and a grumpy attitude.

       Soon enough, a magical clock and a magical candlestick would show up at his feet, and Kirk would smile at them. Smile more than he usually would.

       Because Jim would break out of there. He promised himself that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that drama tho. >:D See ya'll in the next update, which will hopefully be soon.
> 
> Come poke me on [tumblr.](http://dorkymagician.tumblr.com/)
> 
> EDIT: Fun fact: I'm trying to match this fic with my own novel, so I'm playing catch up with my novel in the interim. It'll be a while; I'm behind by four thousand words.


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